


The Pain is Real

by sksdwrld



Series: Comment_Fic and Drabble-prompt fills [4]
Category: Confessions of Dorian Gray
Genre: Gen, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian longs for something he can't have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pain is Real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BekahRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahRose/gifts).



Dorian has been coming to the theatre long enough to know that the seat he occupies is literally the best in the house. It's close enough to stage that he can still appreciate the minute details of the actors persons (say, a particular mole on the inside of the left thigh), but far enough away that the height of the stage doesn't compromise the scene.

The man who has Dorian's full attention isn't the lead but his presence is commanding, nonetheless. And he's beautiful, all the men Dorian has ever loved are. But this one is really something, fathomless blue eyes, razor sharp cheekbones and his lips-oh god!- his lips!

Dorian has seen the play so many times now that he knows the lines by heart. And the death scene, while no longer shocking, is still deeply painful. It moves him every time.

Physically moves, drives, pushes him to the stage door when all is said and done. Dorian patiently waits amidst the hoardes of screaming women for a glimpse of Him. They've met, if you can call it that, a handful of times now and He is always politely adorable but never engaging. Still, Dorian wants him with an ache he's never known.

"Hey, mate," a voice says lowly and there's a hand at Dorian's elbow. He turns to find one of the other actors who has a name but it's not one he's concerned with.

Dorian passes him a polite nod and angles his head at the door. "He's not coming tonight, is he? Tired, I imagine."

The bloke frowns. "You must be Dorian, then."

"Dorian Gray, at your service."

"He's not coming, Mr. Gray. Not so long as you're here."

"I beg pardon?" Dorian blinks and feels something sharp and bitter begin to ruffle within him.

"He's flattered but frankly, also a bit scared, Mr. Gray. He only wants his privacy—"

"Of course he does," Dorian smiles. "I'm a private sort of man myself."

The guy hands him a headshot, signed, and some tickets to another theatre, for other shows. "Please don't come again, or we'll have to file a complaint with the authorities. I'm sorry."

Dorian looks down at the headshot, strokes his fingers across the lips he'll never kiss and takes a step backward. "No, I am."


End file.
